Silent Melodies
by Cairnsy
Summary: Jou and Honda have always been each other’s strength. So in a time of personal uncertainty, it comes as no surprise to Honda when Jou calls on him. Jou and Honda friendship, Seto/Jou.


My first posted Yu-Gi-Oh fanfic, please excuse any glaring errors! C&C, flames, thoughts - all would be very welcome, even if you only want to drop me a review telling me how much I suck. When you're new to a fandom, even the most hateful of reviews can make a writer feel much loved! Or, maybe I'm just strange ... 

This is mainly a Honda and Jou friendship fic, with Seto/Jou romance on the side. I love the Seto/Jou pairing, but I think it is very difficult to get it to work well. This is my (very poor) shot at it, while at the same time playing on the importance of the friendship between Honda and Jou, which I also love. 

Anyway, onto the fic! 

**Silent Melodies.**

"Honda, go down to the store, will you? I need you to pick up a couple of things for me." 

It is the same tune, every night. I've heard this particular off key song for years, the words never change, the pitch stays the same. Like the best of songs, there is a hidden meaning in my mother's words. Like the worst of songs, it is a meaning so trite and unimportant that even the most naïve of schoolgirls roll their eyes. 

My mother, she who lectures on good health and not letting yourself be dragged down by poverty, who clipped my older brother around the ear and sentenced him to a month's worth of cleaning duties when she found him with even the briefest hint of drugs on him, wanted me to go and buy her some cigarettes. Fags. Smokes. 

When I'd tried one, once, back when I was 12 and didn't know better, she'd called them death sticks, and rather forcefully said that there was no way a son of hers was going to pick up such a dirty habit. Just because we were poor, didn't mean we had to fall victim to the same trappings of those who lived around us. 

I don't think I'll ever understand her and her sometimes twisted morals. She'd kill us if we were to take up the habit, but it is one my mother herself has never tried to break. Instead, she pretends she can hide her addiction away between the milk and bread also on her short grocery list, even though we certainly have enough of them both at home. 

Every night, that same old tune, the same old dance. 

In more ways than one. 

As I slip on my jacket, I wonder if Jou will be waiting for me at the store, hoping to whatever heavens might be listening that my best friend won't be there. It isn't that I don't wish to see Jou in general, nor that I can think of a more pleasant way to spend my evening than with him. But Jou knows my nightly trek to the shop as well as I do, and if he has timed his evening well enough to be there, it usually means that the rest of his night has been so bad that he's prepared to ditch everything and anything to find a bit of comfort. And there is nothing more that Jou's hates than to need comfort. He's always acquainted it with pity and other, harsher terms. 

So, it's for Jou's sake that I hope he's curled up in his room, asleep, or staying late at the game shop to practice duelling with Yuugi. He shouldn't be out in this weather anyway, hell, **I** shouldn't be out in it, the wind has a darker edge to it during these winter months, and the trees are whispering of rain and thunder. 

My eyes flutter closed briefly, ever so briefly, as I round the corner and come into view of the small dairy, as well as the figure leaning against its front window. It's a figure that is aiming for casual in its position against the glass, but my trained eyes can see the stiffness that the 'casual' can't quite hide. 

Damn it, Jou. One of these days the world is going to stop using you as a punching bag, and you'll be able to go longer than a month without having to seek me out like this. 

He hates these meetings as much as I do. He hates the thought that he can't deal with all that is thrown at him, as though it makes him weaker or less deserving … less deserving of what, I've never been exactly sure of, but I think 'everything' pretty much covers most of it. 

As I get closer, my eyes sweep over his frame, searching for telltale bruises that mar pale skin far too frequently. He's playing gingerly with his right hand, but that is an older injury, one from last week when Jou had found himself in disagreement with his own reflection, and had decided to settle the matter with his fists. 

So. It isn't his father who has damaged him this time, at least not verbally. Sometimes, I think that the fact the man merely exists wears heavily on Jou. 

"Honda! Hey!" There is a warm wryness in Jou's eyes as he greets me, and the surprised tone of his welcome amuses me on some level as well. I don't call him on the fact that it's well established that I'm here at this time of night, every night, nor the fact that he often is as well. We're both here because of Jou, and Jou calls the shots. 

One of those shots is called pretence. It's one Jou is very good at playing. 

We chatter about stupid things, unimportant things, as I quickly gather up all that is on my mother's list, her cigarettes the last thing to go in paper bag. The store clerk is familiar with me, and doesn't bother to ask for ID – few people ever do, I'm broad enough and tall enough to convince most that I'm older than I am. 

We don't talk about whatever is bothering Jou. We never do. Just admitting he needs someone is difficult enough for Jou, and while he's the kind of person who wears his heart on his sleave, he's not the kind who ever pours that same heart out unless he's beyond desperate. 

I've only seen him like that before, once. The bond between Jou and his sister is very deep, perhaps too deep. 

But then, I'm biased. Anything that hurts Jou can't be good in my mind, and while she certainly never means to cause harm, Serenity is too much like her father, in the way that simply existing pains Jou. That pain is for different reasons, of course. His father is too close, his sister is too far. The cause might be different, but the effect is the same. 

As we head back in the direction of my apartment, we fall silent. Another familiar line in the song. He always drops the charade of forced, up-beat friendship once there are no lights for him to perform under, although there is so much about Jou that could be an act that isn't. I know what being poor can do to people, and I know the masks that some of us wear. Jou, who has every reason to hide himself from the world, rarely resorts to those masks or other forms of protection, he simply decides that all the crap that happens isn't important, and pushes it aside so that he can enjoy life and enjoy others. 

Sometimes, it leaves him open. The blows hurt more if you don't anticipate them. It's when those emotional blows get too much that we have our outings, and I 'help' him in the way that only a best friend can. Silence can have as much healing properties as words, if used correctly. 

But then, Jou does something I hadn't been expecting. Could never have expected. He changes the tune. 

"Honda, I did something incredibly stupid." 

It isn't rare for Jou to do something stupid – he himself jokes about the fact it's his area of expertise, and perhaps he could do an apprenticeship in it after he leaves school. But even when he's done something so foolish that he retreats to the school roof to beat his head against a wall in private, has it never resulted in one of his evening visits. 

My first thought is that he has killed his father, and I'm rather disturbed by the glee that thought brings. True, it's not a very rational thought, but then, Jou isn't the most rational of people in the first place. And there are just so many places where you can hide a dead body on the cheap side of town … 

We don't stop walking as I glance over at him, almost feeling the miserableness that is radiating off of him, and suddenly I'm certain that this has nothing to do with his father. You learn to read those you are close to as though they are not another actual person, but simply an extension of yourself, and Jou I can read as though that extension is my heart itself. This is something different, something that he isn't used to and as a result doesn't know how to deal with – something his usual coping mechanisms aren't designed for. 

"Hmm?" Too much encouragement, and Jou will laugh it off or say something unrelated and utterly corny instead. Ignoring the situation and waiting for Jou to continue on will only spiral us back into silence. And while yes, that silence can be healing, it can also be deadly. 

For a moment, I wonder if I've erred too much on the side of caution, as Jou simply keeps walking slowly, shoulders slouched slightly as he digs his hands deeper into his pockets, almost as though he's decided that I won't be of assistance after all, and perhaps he can find help _there_, hidden between the lint and small change. Finding nothing there of any use, he finally speaks, although he doesn't rise his eyes from the ground. 

"I slept with Kaiba." 

Speaking of places to hide dead bodies, there is an old warehouse three blocks from here that suddenly has Kaiba's name on it. I'm not generally an overly melodramatic person, but it takes every ounce of restraint I have to stop myself from hunting down that snot right now and pounding him. Instead, I simply take out my frustrations on myself, clenching my fists so tightly that my nails almost draw blood. 

"I'm going to kill that bastard." The words come out tightly, roughly. Just because I've gained control over my body doesn't mean I have that same control over my mouth. 

"Why?" Jou's lifted his eyes from the soaked path – when had it started to rain? – and has now fixed his gaze on something in the distance, something I can't see. "It's as much my fault as it is his, the blame both of ours. You can't drop this all on his doorstep, Honda. _I_ can't drop this all on his doorstep." 

Rational Jou always scares the hell out of me. It would be a whole lot easier if he could blame this all on Kaiba as he usually does. 

"Kaiba. Of all people." Yeah, so I'm not exactly at my most elegant at the moment. It's not often I have to deal with my best friend admitting he slept with someone he supposedly hates. "Why, Jou?" Anyone else, and I would have thought they'd got drunk, but Jou shuns alcohol and even those who drink it merely socially. 

"I don't know." He looks confused even as he says the words. "Or, maybe I do. It's complicated, Honda. So complicated that I'm not even sure if it actually happened or if I simply got so caught up in the innuendo and tension that it merely seemed like it did." 

"You're only fourteen, Jou." 

"I've never been fourteen." Jou says it with a wry smile, but there is little humour in it. And he's right, neither us are your typical fourteen year old. We've seen too much, experienced too much, and yeah, done too much, to maintain that naivety that others our age have. Which is why I hate Kaiba that much more. To take the one area where Jou is still vaguely innocent and to corrupt it in the way the CEO corrupts absolutely everything is unforgivable. 

"Besides," Jou continues, and if he was hesitant before, he's having to force the words out now. "Besides, it wasn't that bad." 

"Settling for 'not that bad' has never led to anything but trouble, Jou. You should know that." By the anger that flashes suddenly in brown eyes, he most certainly does. 

"If you think I'm falling for Prince Charming Syndrome, then you've not only missed the boat, Honda – you're at the wrong dock completely." Angry eyes meet mine, daring me to disagree. Prince Charming Syndrome. The bane of those who lives haven't always been quite perfect. After all, what Cinderella wouldn't want to be swept off her feet by the hero of the moment? And if that hero has a few … flaws … well, those flaws are worth dealing with or pretending they don't even exist if it means being able to escape from your current position in life. 

It is when that hero becomes the villain that you realise you never escaped at all, you just switched one hell for another. 

"How can you expect me to believe that?" It's a road I will not let my best friend take. "You, according to your own words, despise the guy. But the moment he makes a play at you, you turn into putty in his wealthy, well-manicured hands. I bet you think he's wonderful now, and are wondering how exactly to proclaim your love to him." 

"Me? In LOVE with Seto? I didn't think I made any mention of that particular detail," Jou growls, having stopped walking and turned to face me. "And he's still a jerk, and way too egotistical, and I'm not going to throw myself at his feet and beg him for a second round if he only deems himself worthy of someone as lowlife as me." Rarely have I seen such heated anger from Jou turned on me, of all people. 

"Then why?!" I don't even bother to keep the exasperation out of my voice. "This ain't the movies, he isn't suddenly gonna turn into this fabulous person and start bringing you flowers, and the guy has hardly any redeeming qualities to begin with. Why Kaiba?" 

"I don't know!" Jou's almost yelling now, a slight desperation seeping into his voice, and I only just realise that we've come full circle. "We were … we were arguing, and then we were fighting, and then we were kissing," his eyes drift shut for a moment before snapping open. "It was just so heated and it happened so quickly that I don't think either of us knew what the hell was going on, other than the fact that it seemed like a natural transition from what we've always been doing." Wet strands of blond hair dyed darker by the rain flicker across his face, but they do little to hide his emotions. Pain. Hurt. Confusion. But not denial, not ever denial. "And as much as it seems impossible to believe, how impossible it should be to believe …" He drifts off, not wanting to say the words. 

I don't want to hear the words. Please, Jou. Anything but what I think you're trying to say. 

"… I enjoyed it." This time, my nails do draw blood, and I wonder idly if my palms will scar. "And it felt right. Not bad, not wrong. Right." 

"Right?" The short laugh that I allow to accompany that one word is hollow. "Exactly in what way could any of what happened feel right?" 

"It felt nice to have his arms around me. His arms. Can you believe it, Honda?" Jou replies, or non-replies. I'm not quite sure if he heard my question or if he is simply continuing on with his previous train of thought. "It should have been uncomfortable and horrible and damn strange. Instead, it just felt … warm. And don't look at me like that," he warns, as he sees me about to protest. "If I wanted to, I could find that kind of comfort somewhere else, if I tried hard enough. Besides, it's not as though I can't live with the thought of not being with Kaiba ever again." Jou snorts at the mere idea. 

"But you don't want this to be a one-off thing, do you?" That sudden realisation stuns me. "And you don't want it to be with anyone else but him." 

"Only at the moment." There is no hesitation from Jou. "Hell, I'm the last person who is going to be asking for a lifetime commitment, Honda – not only do I not believe in it, I certainly don't want it. Especially not with Kaiba of all people." His face twists slightly in disgust at the thought. "But I do want to see where this takes me, and I want to enjoy the ride for as long as it lasts. There is so much there between Kaiba and me that I don't understand, Honda. It certainly ain't love, but I'm not so sure it's completely hate, either. There are things like passion and rivalry and maybe just the hint of understanding …" He trails off, running a slightly shaky hand through drenched hair. "Like I said, I just don't know. But I'd like to find out." 

"And Kaiba wants to as well?" Somehow I just can't see Kaiba caring. Jou as a conquest? I can certainly believe. Jou as a quick lay to be discarded with? Ditto. Kaiba isn't going to want anything to do with Jou now that he's used my best friend and discarded him. If only Jou could see that. 

As I take in the stiffening of his body and the way he goes back to staring off at his invisible object in the distance, I think that perhaps that he can. 

"Jou?" 

"Who knows what Kaiba wants?" Jou finally replies. "It's not exactly as though we talked much, after … yeah. After." 

Brilliant, Jou. Just brilliant. You're telling me you want to explore a relationship with someone who kicked you out of bed as soon as they were done with you. 

"I left before he really had a chance to say anything," Jou adds pointedly, and if Jou is an extension of my heart, then it is my mind that he in turn knows far too well. "Remember what I said about not being able to blame this only on Kaiba? I didn't handle this that well myself. Besides, maybe Kaiba felt as uncomfortable about the whole thing as much as I did, this morning." So Jou actually slept over? I wonder if his father knows he didn't return home last night. 

I give the bastard a 20% chance of having been sober enough to realise his son was missing. I'm only being that generous because I've got bigger fish to fry at the moment. 

I don't want Jou to do this. Hell, I don't want him to even attempt it, as I doubt that Kaiba is even going to want to speak to Jou. But Jou wants this. I can't even begin to understand why, but he does. And he doesn't want me to talk him out of it, that much is clear. He wants me to help him deal with it and be the support he desperately needs, because God knows he isn't going to be getting it from anywhere else. 

I just don't know if I can trust myself to be that for him. Not when I can't even begin to trust Kaiba. 

But it is obviously the night for surprises. As we close in on my apartment, two sets of disbelieving eyes fall on the limo parked out front. A sense of deja-vu assaults me as I see the casual figure resting against its side, so similar to the pose that Jou had greeted me with earlier tonight. 

Seto Kaiba has the pose down to perfection. Pity that the fact that he is standing out in the rain and on his way to getting drenched to the bone kinda ruins the whole effect of him not having a single care in the world. 

Jou stills beside me, dark eyes narrowing. I don't need a mirror to know I must be a true visualisation of hostility. What the fuck is Kaiba doing here? 

"We need to talk," He doesn't even bother to acknowledge me, turning straight away to Jou. If it were possible, I would swear that Jou's eyes narrowed further. 

"Try again, Seto," Jou replies, and I'm starting to feel as though I'm trapped in a game that only these two are supposed to be playing. Kaiba growls low in his throat, before turning to me. 

"Honda. Jou." It is quite possibly the most forced greeting I've ever heard Kaiba make, but that he would make one – and at the request of Jou, confuses the hell out of me. As does the way the CEO is now staring intently at Jou. "We need to talk." 

"How did you know I would be here?" Jou asks, and although he's hiding it better than I am, he's trying to figure out what is going on as well. 

"Logic." He says it without a hint of smugness or superiority. I didn't know Kaiba could even *speak* without at least one of those tainting his voice. "You weren't at your house-" Jou pales just slightly, and from the dark expression that flickers quickly across Kaiba's face, I'm willing to bet that Kaiba didn't find that out through a phone call. "- so it made sense you would be at a friend's place in this weather. Your mother said you often meet up with Jou during your nightly walks, Honda, so I thought I'd hang around and see if Jou turned up." 

"You must have said something incredibly offensive to my mother for her to make you stay outside," I growl, taking a menacing step towards the other boy. Kaiba shrugs indifferently. 

"She did offer to let me wait inside, but I needed some air." 

Air was all fine and good, but had Kaiba really failed to notice the fact it was fucking pouring down about now? Surely the CEO wasn't so stupid as to not know that limos came with this strange, experimental new function these days known as windows? 

And ya know, it's rude as hell to not look at someone when you're talking to them. He could at least pretend to be paying attention to what I'm saying while he's studying every reaction Jou is having to our little 'conversation'. Not that Jou is exactly reacting in any way. 

I can keep playing stupid all night if it means I can ignore the implications of what is going on right now. I can pretend that there is nothing slightly out of character about the Kaiba standing before me, and I can pretend to not see the slight confusion in his eyes that mirror just a tad what I saw in Jou's, earlier. Jou might not waste his time with denial, but I've always been a fairly big fan of it. 

"You know, it wouldn't have killed you to wait for us in the limo," Jou finally says, a smirk twisting at the corner of his mouth. "You look like a drowned rat." 

"As opposed to a drowned mutt?" Kaiba replies instantly, his own smirk firmly in place. But even through my own desired state of denial, I can tell that their banter doesn't hold the usual, hardened edge to it. In fact, it's almost … 

It's almost playful. 

And I'm intruding. 

"Yeah, well you can be drowned whatevers elsewhere. I plan on going inside where it's warm." THAT catches both of their attention, and they turn away from their little game, from each other, to face me. "This weather isn't going to clear up anytime soon, so why don't you get Kaiba to drop you off home, Jou? Between catching your death and having to share a car with Money Bags, Kaiba is the better option. Just." I have to force the words out, and Jou blinks in surprise. Of course he does. He knows that if I had it my way, Kaiba wouldn't be an issue at all. 

But that is a choice only Jou can make. Kaiba has extended, if not quite the olive branch, then at least a leaf, and it is Jou who must decide whether he accepts it or not. Grudgingly, I give Kaiba a tiny ounce of credit for at least being here in the first place, although I would never admit such a thing out loud. 

"Death or Kaiba. Can I take what's behind mystery door number three, instead?" Jou muses, while Kaiba rolls his eyes. 

"Get in or start walking, I'm not planning on hanging around here all night," Kaiba declares, and if wasn't quite so cynical, I would almost believe that I'd heard a slightly nervous hitch in his voice. Kaiba's got no idea what Jou's going to decide, although I've got a sinking feeling that I do. 

"Actually, I think I'll walk." 

Walk?! 

"Walk?" Kaiba's face is expressionless. Mine's one of utter shock. "If that is what you prefer." He turns then, stiffly, and he's almost into the limo before Jou speaks again. 

"If you've got nothing better to do, you can walk with me. There's an all night café about twenty minutes from here. Perfect for coffee and that talking thing you were going on about earlier." 

Kaiba pauses, before slowly turning to face Jou, leaning slightly on the open door of the limo. 

"We'll walk there, and I'll have the limo pick us up when we're done." Kaiba says, before walking over to Jou's side. 

The unacknowledged attempt between the two of them to gain some form of equilibrium to build from pacifies me slightly. Slightly. I can almost force myself to smile as Jou waves good-bye, calling out that he'll see me at school tomorrow. I do smile when Jou wacks Kaiba over the head when the CEO makes a comment about how only puppies like to go out in the rain at this time of night. 

I don't like this, but I trust Jou – I have to. I almost miss the predictable song of earlier, but perhaps it is worth risking it if it means finding a happier tune. 

I'll be here though if the tempo changes again. For Jou's sake, I hope it doesn't. 

Melodies don't always have to be depressing, after all. 


End file.
